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The Crossing - Part 31 free porn video
I was an escaped PoW living as a married woman in Nazi Germany. Trapped
in Berlin, with time running out and the Red Army closing in, my secret
was about to be uncovered....
THE CROSSING - part 31
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 68 -
Two days. Lexi had expected we'd have to wait a day until it was safe to
go outside again, but it took two until the bombing let up enough for us
to venture out. It was now the twentieth, Adolf Hitler's birthday. I
didn't think he was going to enjoy it very much.
It was early in the morning and Helmut and I were breakfasting with Lexi
in the Air Ministry canteen, under the watchful eye of Horst.
"Two days since our arrival and still no sign of Cousin Albrecht,"
observed Helmut. "Anyone would think he was trying to avoid us."
"I see how it could look that way," said Lexi, "but believe it or not he
really is busy trying to maintain some semblance of order among what
remains of the civilian population, and there are many thousands of them
who didn't leave the city. Things are bad enough already without a
descent into total lawlessness."
"I can see that," I said, nodding.
"So, about Hans," said Helmut. "Are you sure he's where you told us he
is?"
"As sure as I can be without going there and checking for myself,"
replied Lexi. "He's stationed at Konradsh?he in the borough of
Reinickendorf. He's part of the unit there charged with defending a major
road leading into Berlin from the north-west."
"Then that's where I'm heading while we have this lull in the bombing,"
said Helmut, getting to his feet. "Take care of Eva for me while I'm
gone."
"Excuse me!" I said, not quite believing what I was hearing. "If you
think I'm waiting here while you go and get Hans by yourself you've got
another think coming."
I stood up and put my hands on my hips, staring at him defiantly.
"I didn't come all this way, take all those risks, just to be left
behind."
"There's only room for one passenger on the bike," he protested.
"And there will only be room for one passenger when the three of us leave
Berlin together. Far better to confront that problem when we collect Hans
rather than leaving it until the last minute because the last minute
could actually be that for real, with every second counting."
Helmut could see I wasn't going to be dissuaded. He reluctantly nodded.
"OK, then let's go and get Hans."
As we exited the canteen Helmut took my hand and squeezed it.
"Sorry, my love," he said.
Outside, while we waited for the motorcycle to be brought round to us,
Helmut questioned a guard as to which roads were still clear. Based on
his recommendation we threaded our way through a maze of minor streets
before turning north and heading out from the centre.
Our experience on this journey was the reverse of what it had been when
we'd ridden in two days ago. The bomb blasted landscape around us was
primarily one of fire and rubble, but as we got further from the centre
that started to change. Soon we began seeing the occasional building that
though damaged was still standing. These increased in number as we rode
until we were far enough out that bomb damage became intermittent and the
buildings on the streets we rode down seemed mostly intact, though as
before with hardly anyone about. From what I remembered of Berlin's
geography the locality we were headed for, Konradsh?he, was divided into
two zones: J?rsfelde and Tegelort. The biggest of these, J?rsfelde, was
situated in the north, while Tegelort was on the southern side located on
a peninsula formed by the Havel river and Lake Tegel. Based on this,
J?rsfelde struck me as the more likely location to find Hans, and so it
proved.
We came across his unit dug in where the area's major arterial road cut
between football pitches set up in the fields of some sort of municipal
park. As a defensive position this made a great deal of sense. When
Soviet forces emerged from between the buildings on the opposite side of
the park they would then be in open ground and so easier to fire upon.
We were stopped as we approached, our papers examined, and then escorted
to the sports pavilion overlooking the football pitches where the unit
commander had set up his command post. Dug in beside the pavilion was a
Panzer tank. Surrounded by sandbags as it was it didn't look like it was
going anywhere any time soon.
Inside the pavilion, poring over a table covered with maps, was a
grizzled-looking man wearing the uniform of a major in the Wehrmacht. He
looked up as we entered, frowning questioningly at the corporal who had
brought us to him.
"Count and Countess von Rumstahl, Herr Major," he said, "here
on the authority of the Fuhrer."
"The Fuhrer, you say?" he said, straightening up as the corporal handed
him our letter of passage from Hitler. After reading it he sighed then
smiled at us.
"Welcome Herr Count, Countess. I'm Major Jurgen Hoffmann. I'd offer to
shake your hand but as you can see I'm a bit lacking in that department."
He held up his right arm. He had a hook in place of a hand.
"Shot off at Stalingrad. Now what can I do for you?"
"We've come for Hans Strohmann," said Helmut.
"Have you now?" he replied stroking his chin with his left hand. "May I
ask why?"
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."
"No need," chuckled the major, "I know why you're here. He's your
sister's boyfriend and you want to take him away from here because you
can."
"You know about Hans and Gerda?" I said. "I was under the impression Hans
didn't talk about his personal life."
"He doesn't, but all letters have to be run past a censor before they're
sent out. Who do you think performs that function for this unit?"
"Does that mean you'll stop us from taking him?" asked Helmut.
"God, no. With the authority the Fuhrer's letter gives you I couldn't if
I wanted to anyway, but I don't."
"May I ask why not?"
"Because he's a good lad and I like the thought of at least one of us
surviving this godforsaken war. Our armies have thus far succeeded in
holding back the Russian advance so we haven't seen any action yet, but
it won't be long now until we do. I'm under no illusion about how long
we're likely to survive when that happens."
"You have a Panzer," I said.
"And a goodly number of shells for it," said the major, "but it has
broken drive links that we have no replacements for so it's stuck where
it is. As the Battle of Kursk proved, Russian tanks are superior to ours.
We'll get a few shells off I'm sure, but if we're facing a T-34 it will
take our Panzer out in no time."
"How many men do you have?" asked Helmut.
"Twenty. Most of them veterans of the eastern front, half of whom left
bits of themselves behind."
He turned to the corporal, who was still standing there.
"Go and fetch Leutnant Strohmann," he said.
The corporal did as he was ordered and a couple of minutes later Hans
arrived in the pavilion. His eyes went wide when he saw us.
"Helmut? Eva?" he said. "What are you doing here?"
"They've come to take you away," said the major.
"Sir?"
"Before you say anything about your place being here with your fellow
soldiers know that I'm ordering you to go with them, lad. You're young
and you still have your whole life ahead of you. Go and you might
actually get to live it. Stay here with us and you almost certainly
won't."
Hans looked at the major, looked at us, then nodded.
"It's been an honour serving with you, sir"
"And with you, son," replied the major. "Now get out of here.
These two came on a motorcycle that only seats two but we still have the
one that belonged to the despatch rider who was killed. Take that."
"Thank you, sir."
They saluted each other with a half-hearted 'Heil Hitler' but obvious
mutual affection, then we left the pavilion.
"I can't believe you came here to get me," said Hans as soon as we were
outside. "Whatever possessed you both?"
"We're doing it for Gerda," I said. "I don't think she'd survive if you
got yourself killed here. Are you OK with this?"
"God, yes. We're way past the point where anything we do here has a
chance of making any difference. We've lost the war. Dying now would be
futile. It would mean nothing."
"Good, then collect your gear and let's find this dispatch rider's bike,"
said Helmut. "Where are you billeted?"
"We requisitioned the houses closest to the pavilion," said Hans. "A lot
of their owners had fled the city anyway, and there were plenty of vacant
houses further away to move the others into."
"While you're collecting your stuff be sure to bring along some of your
bedding too," said Helmut. "With any luck we'll be able to get out of the
city today, but if we can't you'll need it."
Hans did as Helmut suggested, exchanged farewells with his mates, most of
whom looked like they wanted to go with him, then mounted his bike. Like
ours this was a BMW R12 and Hans with his height and film star features
looked, to use a jazz term, very cool on it. Needless to say, he and
Helmut decided it would be a good idea to race each other along those
sections of road that were still clear enough. Hanging onto Helmut as
they tore off, I smiled ruefully. Wartime or not, boys will be boys.
Unfortunately, Helmut's hopes of us leaving the city that day were soon
dashed. No sooner did we arrive back at the Air Ministry than there were
explosions all around us. Yet there were no bombers overhead, no bombs
falling.
"What the hell's happening?" I shouted to the guard as we ran through the
ministry door and into the comparative safety of its interior.
"It's the Russians," he shouted back. "They finally broke through at the
Seelow Heights yesterday and they're now at the eastern edge of the city.
They're close enough to turn their field artillery on us."
"Oh, Jesus!" I said. "We're all in serious trouble now."
The artillery bombardment went on for days, pinning us down and knocking
chunks out of the Air Ministry building. We were desperate to leave but
even if the shelling had stopped there was a problem. Though Hans had
grabbed his stuff and we'd all managed to get under cover when it
started, we hadn't had time to get the bikes to safety. They lay where
we'd left them, their torn and mangled remains barely even recognizable
as bikes anymore. We could have left the building and made a run for it
trusting to fate but that would have been suicidally risky, so we didn't.
Unlike bombing, shelling could provide a high degree of accuracy when it
came to hitting a given target but this relied on spotters being able to
report back as to where your initial shells fell so you could recalibrate
accordingly. Fortunately, no spotter had yet penetrated far enough into
the city to do so or that shelling would have been even more deadly that
it already was.
On the twenty-fourth, news reached us that forces of the 1st Belorussian
Front and the 1st Ukrainian Front had linked up in the west after
fighting their way round from the north and south. This meant Berlin was
now entirely encircled by the Soviets.
We were trapped in the city with no way out.
- 69 -
Unsurprisingly the atmosphere in the Air Ministry was extremely gloomy.
Everyone knew a noose was tightening around us and would continue to do
so until it choked us to death. A few days ago Hitler had appointed
General Helmuth Weidling as commander of the Berlin Defence Area, but we
didn't expect this to make any difference to our situation. It was far
too late for that.
The evening of the twenty-fifth found Hans, Helmut and I sitting on the
floor of our room in the basement, our backs against the filing cabinets,
our mood fatalistic. Hans had brought a bottle of wine with him from his
room.
"From the house where I was billeted," he explained, as he poured it into
cups for us. "It was an unremarkable suburban home but its owner had
built up a small yet surprisingly good wine cellar, which he left behind
when he fled. It helped my nights there pass more pleasantly than they
might otherwise have done."
"Did you share the house with anyone?" I asked.
"No. My body shyness was considered odd but it was accepted, so when I
asked for a house to myself my request was granted. We had no shortage to
choose from, after all."
"A toast," said Helmut, raising his cup. "To survival."
"Survival!" we agreed, raising our own.
"I'm sorry you're in this situation," said Hans. "I'm probably no worse
off than if you hadn't come for me, but you could still both be safe and
sound back in Rumstahl."
"No one forced us to come," I said, "we volunteered."
"And is anywhere in Germany safe anymore?" added Helmut.
"Maybe not, but anywhere would be safer than staying here to face what's
coming."
"What is coming?" I asked.
"Vengeance. We sowed the wind and we're about to reap the whirlwind. From
everything I've heard we treated captured enemy combatants in the west
according to the Geneva Conventions and our prisoner of war camps were
reasonably humane places."
"So I've heard," I said, nodding.
"That wasn't true in the east. We let hundreds of thousands of captured
Soviet troops starve or freeze to death."
"How do you know this?" asked Helmut.
"The men I was serving with until a few days ago were all veterans of the
eastern front, most of them haunted by the things they'd seen there,
things they told me about. Now the Russians are here, and they're in no
mood to show us any mercy. After they take the city I'm sure there are
going to be killings and rapes on an unimaginable scale. If they discover
I'm female under this uniform they'll try to rape me too, but I'll kill
myself before I let a man violate me."
Seeing his grim determination as he spoke these words I had no doubt that
he would.
Despite the wine, when Helmut and I retired that night our sleep was
troubled, yet when we woke the following morning it was immediately
apparent that something was different.
The shelling had stopped.
Over breakfast with Hans a little later, Helmut explained what this had
to mean.
"It may have ceased in this area of the city for the moment but shelling
is still going on elsewhere," he said. "The shelling having stopped here
is actually bad news. It means the Red Army has penetrated to the central
area of Berlin. They only stopped the shelling because there's a good
chance they'd be killing their own men if they continued with it."
"So it's almost over," I said.
"It's almost over," murmured Hans, hand resting on the holster holding
his sidearm.
As it turned out, it wasn't. Having nowhere better to be we stayed in the
canteen after we'd eaten, reminiscing about happier times, so we were
there when people started flooding into the room. It appeared to be most
of those still in the building. Helmut grabbed the arm of one of these
newcomers, a sergeant.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
"There's going to be an announcement," said the sergeant.
"What sort of announcement?"
"That's what we're all here to find out," he said, shaking free of
Helmut's grip.
A few minutes later a man and a woman entered and marched to the head of
the room. He was a high-ranking Luftwaffe officer I didn't recognize. The
woman was Hanna Reitsch.
The man was limping and looked to be in his early fifties. He was helped
up on to a chair to make his announcement. Only then did I see the bloody
bandage around his right foot.
"For those that don't know me, I'm Generaloberst Robert Ritter von Greim.
Three days ago, on the twenty-third, Hermann G?ring sent a radiogram to
the Fuhrer's bunker, asking to be declared his successor. He asserted
that if he got no response by ten pm that evening, he would take this as
proof Hitler was incapacitated and assume leadership of the Reich. For
this act of treason, this attempted coup d'?tat, the Fuhrer has ordered
him stripped of all his offices and expelled from the Nazi Party. At the
Fuhrer's request, I've travelled to Berlin to be appointed head of the
Luftwaffe in his place. Hanna Reitsch and I flew into the city an hour
ago. We've stopped off at the Air Ministry to freshen up before we
proceed to the Fuhrer's bunker and so that I could introduce myself to
those I hope to be working with when we get beyond our current
difficulties. Thank you."
There was some clapping and cheering at this news, not that most of us
expected it to change anything. As von Griem was helped down from the
chair, we three made our way over to Hanna. She was astonished to see us.
"Helmut? Eva? What in God's name are you doing in Berlin?"
"We came to rescue Hans here, but ended up trapped in the city," said
Helmut. "But how did you get through, Hanna? Berlin is surrounded."
"Robert and I..." she began.
Robert?
"...flew from Rechlin to Gatow in south-western Berlin, which hadn't yet
fallen to the Bolsheviks, in a Focke Wulf."
"Wait," said Helmut. "The cockpit of a Focke Wulf only has room for the
pilot."
"That's right. I flew in the tail of the plane, getting into it by
climbing through the small emergency opening in the fuselage. There are
times when being as small as I am is very useful. After landing at Gatow,
we switched aircraft. A Fieseler Storch seemed a far better bet for
hopping over those besieging the city and landing on whatever bit of
level ground we could find. Unfortunately, we were hit by anti-aircraft
fire over the Grunewald and Robert was wounded. I took over the aircraft
and landed on the improvised airstrip that's been set up in the
Tiergarten."
"They didn't set up an airstrip just for you," I said, as the
implications of what she had said sank in.
"No, they didn't. I was told Albert Speer flew in and then back out again
a few days ago."
"Damn it!" said Helmut. "The only way out of the city and we don't have a
plane."
"You once told me you can fly light aircraft, correct?" Hanna
asked him.
"Yes, but I...."
"Then take ours," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a
key. "It's been fitted with a key ignition so you'll need this."
"But, how will you get out of the city?" asked Helmut, clearly stunned by
this gesture.
"There are a few other aircraft in the Tiergarden and as head of the
Luftwaffe Robert can commandeer any of them. Since we expect to have the
Fuhrer with us when we leave we'll need a bigger plane anyway. Do you
think the three of you can squeeze into a Storch?"
"I..I think so," said Helmut. "But Hanna, I don't know how I can ever
thank you."
"Then don't. Consider this a belated wedding gift. Now I have to go. The
Fuhrer is waiting for us."
-70-
I felt giddy. We were saved! I could scarcely believe it.
"Can a Storch really take the three of us?" asked Hans, looking dubious.
"It's a two-seater aircraft. I heard that when Otto Skorzeny rescued
Mussolini, the pilot of the Storch carrying the two of them struggled to
keep it from crashing, and he was Luftwaffe."
"That's true," said Helmut, "but they were all large men. Eva is petite,
and though you may be tall you don't weigh as much as you appear to,
Hans. A lot of those broad shoulders of yours are in the way your uniform
is tailored. No, I think we'll be alright."
"So what next?" I asked. "We don't have any time to lose."
"No, we don't. Get our things from the room, Eva, but leave the bedding,
tent, camping gear, and anything else large and heavy. We have to keep
the weight down. You'll need to abandon most of your gear too, Hans."
"Understood," he said.
"Good. Meet me back here in ten minutes and we'll head out.
Like people destined for the gallows who had received a last minute
reprieve, Hans and I were positively buzzing as we made our way back to
our rooms. We reached his first, after which I proceeded on to my
own...and bumped into Lexi coming the other way.
"I heard there was a meeting," she said, "but Albrecht was finally able
to make his way back here when the shelling stopped and he was feeling
frisky. What did we miss?"
So I told her. Everything.
"I wish there was some way we could take you with us," I said when I'd
finished.
"Don't worry about me. I'm a survivor, remember? I can always turn any
situation to my advantage, and I'll do whatever I have to to carry on
living, no matter what it takes."
"It looks like we won't get to see Grost after all. What a pity. Please
don't give him our regards."
"I won't, I promise," she said, chuckling.
We hugged then, and kissed. Lexi touched her forehead to mine and stroked
my hair.
"The girls of Stalag Luft XII forever," she said.
"Forever," I agreed, stroking her cheek.
"Now go, Eva. And with any luck we'll see each other again when this is
all over."
"I hope so," I said.
Back at our room I retrieved the few items we needed then rejoined Hans
and Helmut in the canteen before we headed out.
It was strange emerging into daylight after so many days trapped in a
basement. The light was a blessed relief, but the smell wasn't. Burning
buildings and rotting corpses made for a very unpleasant aroma. I
wouldn't have thought it possible but thanks to the shelling Berlin
looked even more battered than it had when we arrived here. Ominously, we
could hear distant exchanges of small arms fire and even the occasional
small explosion, presumably a grenade going off.
"Close-quarters combat, street by street," observed Hans, "and not that
far away either by the sound of it. We shouldn't hang around."
We made our way north to Unter den Linden seeing very few civilians about
then turned west, heading along it towards the Brandenburg Gate. Beyond
the gate, in the Tiergarten, the road continued as Charlottenburger
Chaussee, a wide boulevard that had been the site of numerous triumphal
Nazi processions. It was this that had been pressed into service as an
airstrip. A vast urban park, the Tiergarten had once contained lots of
trees but it was now largely deforested having been the major source of
firewood in this shattered city for more than a year.
The Brandenburg Gate was one of Berlin's most iconic monuments, but it
had seen better days. I studied it closely as we approached. Though still
standing it was badly damaged. Its columns were pitted with holes and
only one of the horses in the quadriga on top of the gate still had a
head.
When we passed through the gate we saw three aircraft, all of them
guarded. They had been parked off the boulevard to leave it clear for
landings and take-offs. There were quite a few burned out vehicles on the
side of the road too. Presumably these had been caught on
Charlottenburger Chaussee during bombing raids or strafed by Allied
fighters. Only one of the aircraft was a Storch, parked some distance
from the others, so we headed directly for this.
"Halt!" said the man guarding it, as he pointed his rifle at us. From his
uniform he appeared to be an aircraft mechanic.
"Easy, son," said Helmut, reaching into his jacket. "We've come for this
plane and this is my authority to take it."
He handed over the letter of passage from Hitler, which the guard read
then handed back to him.
"Do you have the ignition key?"
"I do. It was given to me by Hanna Reitsch herself."
"Then the plane is all yours, Herr Count. It was kept fully fuelled at
Gatow, so the tank is almost full."
"Good to know," said Helmut.
The guard saluted, then left us to join those guarding the other
aircraft.
"If you climb in and turn the ignition I'll spin the propeller," said
Hans.
"Of course," said Helmut.
"Not so fast," said a familiar voice, startling us all.
We turned as Albrecht Grost and Lexi emerged from behind a burned out
lorry. Lexi was carrying a small suitcase and Grost had his luger pointed
at us. My heart sank.
"Lexi?" I said, but she wouldn't meet my eyes.
For them to get here before us, Lexi had to have immediately rushed back
to Grost after I told her our plans. Somehow the pair had then made it to
the Tiergarten and concealed themselves behind a burned out vehicle
without the guards seeing them. With the Storch between us and those
guards they couldn't see them now either.
"We're taking the plane," said Grost. "You three will remain in Berlin
and take your chances with the Russians."
"You don't know how to fly it," snorted Helmut, eyes narrowing.
"No, but Lexi does. Apparently, she learned how to fly light aircraft
back home in France. I didn't believe her at first, but she took us up
for a brief trip in a Storch a few months ago
that banished all my doubts."
As RAF Flight Lieutenant Alec Delon, Lexi had never graduated to
fighters, but she had trained on light aircraft. It would not have taken
her long to figure out the controls on a Storch.
I couldn't believe this was happening. We had been resigned to our fate
until Hanna Reitsch had given us new hope. To have that hope snatched
from us like this was unbearably cruel. Hans reached for his gun.
"Uh-uh," said Grost, shaking his head. "I could put a bullet in you
before you had it out of its holster."
I glanced over at Helmut, who I could see was weighing up his chances of
rushing Grost and disarming him. As strong as he was, Grost was a great
bear of a man and that would be no easy task. Unfortunately for me it was
at that exact moment, as I was looking at Helmut, that Grost struck.
"There's something I need to know," he said, his free hand darting under
my dress.
I cried out in shock as it clamped around my genitals.
"I knew it!" he said, a look of malevolent triumph on his face. "You're
not a boyish girl at all. You're a man!"
**********************
To be continued.
**********************
Notes:
Now you know why Hanna Reitsch was one of a handful of real-life people I
made characters in this saga, every one of whom has a specific plot-
related reason for being there. Reitsch flew in to Berlin in a Storch but
left in a different aircraft. I knew I wanted that Storch to be available
as an escape route that one or other of my characters could use. As for
what happened to Reitsch after this....
Hitler gave Reitsch two phials of poison for herself and von Greim. She
accepted them, fully prepared to die alongside her F?hrer but hoping to
be able to convince him to let her spirit him out of Berlin. She
couldn't. During the evening of 28 April, Reitsch and von Griem were
flown out of Berlin from the improvised airstrip in the Tiergarten in an
Arado Ar 96 piloted by a Luftwaffe sergeant. Von Greim was ordered to get
the Luftwaffe to attack the Soviet forces that had just reached Potsdamer
Platz and to make sure Himmler was punished for his treachery in making
unauthorised contact with the Western Allies. Fearing that Hitler was
escaping in the plane, troops of the Soviet 3rd Shock Army, which was
fighting its way through the Tiergarten from the north, tried to shoot
the Arado down, but failed and the plane took off successfully.
With most of the country now under Allied control Reitsch was soon
captured along with von Greim and the two were interviewed together by
American military intelligence officers. When asked about being ordered
to leave the F?hrerbunker on 28 April 1945, Reitsch and von Greim
reportedly repeated the same answer: "It was the blackest day when we
could not die at our F?hrer's side." Reitsch also said: "We should all
kneel down in reverence and prayer before the altar of the Fatherland."
When the interviewers asked what she meant by "Altar of the Fatherland"
she answered, "Why, the F?hrer's bunker in Berlin." She was held and
interrogated for eighteen months. Von Greim committed suicide on 24 May.
Reitsch survived the war and was recognised for her many achievements in
aviation. She was invited to the White House by JFK in 1961. She died in
August 1979.
Most of the above lifted from Wikipedia. You should read the whole entry
on Reitsch. She was a fascinating individual.
Gert
- 07.01.2023
- 20
- 0
